.. which all goes to show what a lot of stuff happens here in a day - even if it seems placid and kinda' slow.
It all began last evening, soon after I'd posted the blog, and in the middle of the Rachmaninoff Vespers, that my foot - not the pinned one, the "healthy" one! - began to hurt like mad; to the point that I couldn't stand, couldn't get up to make supper (Shame!), couldn't get upstairs other than by shuffling on my bum! Weird. But A ministered to me wonderfully and vast doses of analgesics later, with a pillow under the offending foot, I fell asleep and - with a brief and interesting wakening in the "wee" small hours - stayed that way until 9 a.m.
Stubborn so-and-so, I got dressed and we skyped with G and L over breakfast on our settee. Standards are slipping! We always sit to table for breakfast.
Anyway, after a slightly hilarious attempt to portray Long John Silver with the aid of a broom for a crutch, the foot returned to relatively comfortable function and remained that way all day.
For the last two days, the skies here have been reminiscent of a very busy day at Heathrow airport; full of skeins of geese! It's as if the previous days had been the "independent school" families getting away early for the hols, and now we have the full-on, Bank Holiday rush. Yesterday in particular, it can't have been more than ten minutes between "flights", and large Vees at that! All (or almost all) heading due South. The occasional gaggle noisily flaps west-east - or east-west - to join up with another gang; "Look, it's the Jones', I TOLD you they'd know the way!"
A discovered this on the lawn at the North end of the house. Its not dog; it's far too big for deer (there was a pile of that close by); expert advice has it that it's either Moose or Bear.
It's hunting season here; real hunting, not foxes or grouse or things, and the woods are a dangerous place to be, or to have a dog, or horses. The hunters put out great piles of apples or carrots and then wait up trees in the dark. (The joke goes that the deer put out great piles of cans of beer and heaps of hookers and then all go away!).
Sadly, not all of them. There has definitely been a Moose here abouts recently; K found tracks a few days ago and we found the pile, but, in the middle of the village today - this evidence of at least one hunter's "success".
It's all very regulated, a limited number of beasts per hunter and a ballot for the (very few) permits to kill a female, but it's still sad to many of us - and comes as a shock to those of us from tenderer climes.
At least you can eat it!
But today was a celebration, an end of summer ritual that Mark and Sheila have carried on for many years; it was Apple-Pressing! A glorious, bring food, press apples, take away juice, make farewells for the season; wish each other well for travels (so many people are "Snow Birds" and will be heading off this month for the Southern States of America and sunnier climes).
So - here's the press in action...
..and here's (some of) the wonderful food!Canadian Thanksgiving next weekend (the USA celebrates it later) which we shall keep in England - d.v.













































